


Nocturne

by kscribbles



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Ficlet, Smut, dark doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27153746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscribbles/pseuds/kscribbles
Summary: It wasn’t fair to her. This sort of half-relationship, where he would only touch her in the dark.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 16
Kudos: 71





	Nocturne

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the tags. This contains potential dubcon (no physical violence). This is a considerably darker Doctor than I usually write. 
> 
> Thanks again to the incomparable [nonelvis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nonelvis/pseuds/nonelvis) for betaing a third fic in quick succession and talking me through my fic angst.

On nights like these, he’d spend some time wandering the TARDIS halls. Not because he was aimless, necessarily. He was actually quite aimful, but the ship often had other ideas. And sometimes it would take a stern mental talking-to, but eventually, he’d end up at Rose’s bedroom door. 

Tonight her door was open. And that fact, that it seemed as though she was inviting this, _him_ , gave him pause. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know this was wrong. Every time he did this, sought her out in the middle of her night, gave into his base urges, he struggled with himself, just a bit, every step of the way. It wasn’t fair to her. This sort of half-relationship, where he would only touch her in the dark.

Each time he’d promise himself this would be the last time. And then he’d find himself again at this door. 

She seemed to be asleep, on her side, facing away from him, duvet pushed past her knees. In the low light he could plainly see she was in only a t-shirt and knickers, and just the sight of her bare thighs made his trousers tighten. No, no chance he’d be turning away from her door tonight. Not unless she told him to go.

But he lingered a bit longer, watching, letting his desire build. He thought about how he would take her, if he would bother to get naked, if she would. It was usually quick. They both seemed to prefer it that way. An excusable, dreamy, few moments of weakness, of release. Nothing so real as a whole, slow night of lovemaking, despite how they felt about each other. And though part of him would love a cuddle—to even sleep by her side, and wake there as well—that wasn’t what this was about. It couldn’t be. This was _need_.

Rose turned in bed then, and was facing him now. Her eyes fluttered open. She couldn’t see as well as he could in the dark, but he knew his silhouette by the door was plain enough.

“It’s a bit creepy to watch a girl as she sleeps, Doctor.”

“Sorry,” he said, pushing off the door jamb. “I was trying to decide if I should come in.” _No he wasn’t._

“No you weren’t,” she said, grabbing the duvet at her knees and flinging it off her and off the other half of the bed as well. Another clear invitation. “You were going to come in here because you’re lonely or bored or horny, and then we would fuck, and then tomorrow we’d pretend like it never happened. Right?”

“Mmm,” he agreed, noncommittally. He shucked his shoes and his suit jacket and climbed onto her bed, next to her. “Never boredom, though.” 

She snorted wryly at that. Then she pulled him closer by his shirt, snogging him for all he was worth. _Good_ , she wasn’t in the mood to take her time either. Or, apparently, to talk. Suited him fine just now. 

He delighted in the feel and the taste of her, lust spiking through her blood, the shared urgency that set him on fire. Sometimes it felt as though she thought he would disappear. Well, that made a sort of sense. He himself didn’t really know when he’d turn up till shortly before he’d decide to.

She unbuttoned his shirt as they kissed, apparently pleased by his lack of tie or vest for once, scratching her nails along his chest in a delicious friction just the right side of pain. He was completely hard before her hands snaked around to his bum, pulling him into her, the warmth of her sex penetrating through the thin barriers of her knickers and his trousers. But on their sides like this, it was difficult to get the grinding she seemed to be after, because she made a noise of frustration against his mouth and then pushed him away.

He wanted to protest; he wanted her mouth again. He could never get enough of her tongue especially. He could and would happily kiss her while they fuck, but she had other ideas. She sat up enough to whip off her knickers, and then did something so simple and sexy, he immediately knew he’d be filing away that particular image for future use: she turned onto her stomach. 

It was still fairly dark, but the white of her long t-shirt, rucked up to just above the curve of her arse, accentuated it and those thighs he had been so admiring minutes ago. He wondered, when presented with such an offering, if he’d ever be able to break this addiction to her. Though he knew he’d have to.

She turned to look over her shoulder at him, curious about the delay. “Now, Doctor.”

“Yes,” he agreed, freeing his erection with little ceremony, kicking his trousers off, but not bothering with his shirt, as she hadn’t with hers. 

He slid his body over hers, lightly biting the join of her neck and shoulder, not to leave a mark, but to taste the salt of her skin again, as he rutted against her briefly, cock sliding a bit obscenely between the cheeks of her arse.

She wiggled impatiently below him, and he obliged her, lifting her hips enough so he could get into place at her entrance, and finding her incredibly hot and slippery wet, he pushed in. The sharp inhale-to-groan sound that Rose made when he first entered her was one of his favorite sounds in the universe and one of the reasons he kept coming back to her door. That and the silken grip of her cunt as he moved in her.

Not too quickly at first, holding back just enough to make this last, lest he leave her disappointed. Though, to his knowledge, he never had.

But when she made another noise of frustration, he let go. She wanted it fast, she liked it a bit rough, and he gave that to her, pulling them both to their knees, pulling her hips back onto him as he thrust into her wildly, blindly reaching for his release. Rose too was wild tonight, encouraging him mostly with sounds that weren’t quite words. And a couple that were: “fuck” and “god” and “please” and “yes.” 

When she came, her muscles clamped down on him so strongly he had to stop moving. He held her there till her arms gave and she collapsed beneath him, nearly but not quite dislodging him as he fell back to the mattress with her. A few more strokes against her arse and he was done for, following her in breathless oblivion. The seemingly endless waves of white-hot pleasure giving way to a quiet nothingness, his mind perfectly silent and still for a few precious moments.

It didn’t last. He knew it couldn’t. She caught her breath, her heartrate slowed, and she made a sleepy noise of discomfort, indicating he should move. He slipped wetly from her body, grimacing with regret. This was the worst part. Untangling himself from her. Knowing the longer he stayed in her bed, the harder it would be to leave it. He rolled off her and ground the heels of his palms against his eyes to clear his head.

Rose said nothing and he said nothing. They never did do much discussing after. Which was for the best. Though he thought… something felt a bit different about tonight. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Was Rose angrier? She’d never really called him out on the nature of his visits to her bed before. Though she seemed no less...enthusiastic. 

Well, he didn’t have time to contemplate. And Rose had already fallen asleep in an exhausted, messy heap, and he should really go. 

He carefully set her duvet over her, found the clothing he’d strewn about, and dressed as quietly as he could. With a last glance at Rose, he slipped out of her bedroom silently, closing the door behind him. He did have things to do; he wasn’t lying about not being bored. He made his way back through the halls on a much more direct path this time.

When he entered the console room, he stopped short. It wasn’t empty. 

_Ah_. He’d miscalculated. His memory or his piloting skills had been slightly off. He sighed. A rookie mistake. Like many, many things lately, he shouldn’t have let that happen. 

Well, tempt fate enough times, you’re bound to lose. 

“What?” asked the man standing there, wide-eyed with shock, his whole body on alert, as though his pinstripes were set to jump right off his suit. This man, this other, much younger Doctor, wore his same face, of course, but from so long ago now, really, he hardly recognized it. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Erm,” he said, tugging at his ear a bit. “Would you believe bad parking?”

“When?” demanded the younger Doctor, approaching him, sizing him up.

He jammed his hands in his pockets, to avoid any other nervous tells. “Later,” he answered, simply.

“After?” _After they lose her_. So he already knew. Poor sod.

“Yes.”

“But that’s—” the other Doctor spluttered in exasperation. “That’s against the rules! SO many rules.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledged, moving towards the TARDIS doors. Staying here, having this conversation while standing this close to the other who could no doubt smell the sex on him, was only making a terrible idea worse.

“You can’t just–! Your own timeline!” The Doctor’s eyes got even wider as something obviously occurred to him. “You’re why Rose has been acting strangely. This wasn’t an accident!” Or the first time he’d done it, which was clearly becoming plain to his younger self. Well, he’d always been clever. 

“Yeah,” he said again. “I—sorry. I’m remembering that now. You’ll want to do something about that. Look, love to stay and chat, but I have places to be. An Ood calling and all that.”

“A what?” _Fuck._ “Look. You can’t just—” he repeated.

“I can, actually. I did. And now I’m leaving.”

“If you hurt her...” the younger him warned, an empty, unfinished promise, like all their promises.

“Rose will be fine, Doctor,” he said at the door. “You forget, I know how this story ends.”

FIN


End file.
